


night view

by starkreactor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkreactor/pseuds/starkreactor
Summary: Draco visits Muggle clubs to escape his infamy back home. Of course, obscurity can’t last forever.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	night view

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter is my literal childhood and in all my fandom obsessed years, I have never ever written hp fic...then monsta x finally releases a banging album and one song in particular, the song this fic is titled after, is a club song. a friend planted the idea of draco and harry dancing to it so...here we are.
> 
> I highly recommend listening to “night view” from the album _fatal love_ on its own first, and then along with the fic if you’re into that.

The club shines bright in the center like the moon in the night sky outside, brightness melting into black sky in the corners where starry couples cling together and swallow what little light scatters the dance floor between their gyrating bodies. Today marks weekend number five in this particular club, a Muggle one that allows Draco Malfoy the ease of social interaction without the volatile aspects he faces back in the wizarding world. A pride flag hangs above the bar counter, establishing the venue as friendly for his ilk--gay as a unicorn the saying goes. Silver, white, and gray lighting bounces off the walls and sequin studded fabric of dancers on the floor, fracturing the purity of the light until yellows, blues, and purples bounce back in hues unseen anywhere but under this specific lighting.

Draco holds his glass in one hand, sipping lightly at the clear vodka inside as his eyes peruse the sweaty bodies enjoying the bumping bass and pounding kick drum. Muggle music has so little inhibitions within it, weaving noises one wouldn’t dare want to hear in their daily life--loud screams, consistent clapping, gunshots, and odd whirring sounds like an engine sputtering to it’s timely death. Somehow this noise combines with sex-infused lyrics and padded chords to create a beat one can’t help but sway along to, Draco included.

Downing the last drops of his toxin of choice this fine evening, the silvery-blonde worms his way through the crowd, shaking his hips to the beat as he squeezes his way toward the center. Within the cacophony of bodies, deep sighs, and sultry moans, Draco can easily lose himself to the mob and allow himself the freedom to be whoever he wants. Rather, be himself in a way his familial strictures would have never allowed. The current song is coming to an end, the last few beats thumping in his chest as the DJ mixes the crowd into a new dance. Silver eyes close and he turns his back, raising his arms up as he sways to the new beat. It’s synths at first, soft and padded, preparing for an entrance just as equally soft and padded. The song is unfamiliar but it already hooks Draco, has him leaning his head back against someone as the bodies surrounding him slow down to follow the song’s flow.

_ I don’t know what to do, dunno what to do. _

Two hands creep onto his hip, warm and heavy with thick yet long fingers pressing into the skin showing beneath his white t-shirt crop top. He smiles and leans into the touch; no pulling was intended for the night, but a warm and interested body is a warm and interested body. He’ll take his chances.

_ So why don’t we just nod all day? I know what to do, I know what to do. _

Draco leans back into the embrace working it’s way around his hips. A familiar scent surrounds him as he feels the chin of his current dance partner press lightly into his shoulder; spicy, warm, energized, like the mentos in Coca Cola he saw grade schoolers playing with weeks back as he strolled through the park near his apartment complex. There’s a wizard at his back--that’s the only explanation for this feeling--and the fact this person approached him so head on even though his hair is most definitely a sign of his Malfoy heritage is startling enough that he pulls back just enough to turn and face his partner head on.

The music fades into the background as he stares into bespectacled green eyes. Green eyes he’s unconsciously memorized the exact color of over the years he’s spent glaring into them. Tonight those eyes are filled with humor, no cold glares or underlying anger. Draco feels his heart clench and something in his eyes must give his shock away as those hands--hands he never expected to feel so intimately on his person--tighten their grip. Not enough to bruise or be possessive, but simply a message of agreement. A message that he wants this interaction to continue, not end.

“Potter,” hisses Draco into the space between their bodies, swallowed like the lights that shine above them. He’s not too sure the man even heard him but green eyes crinkle at the corner in obvious humor. “What brings you around these parts?”

Draco nudges Potter’s hand with his hip at the word ‘parts’ in emphasis of not just the club but his own body. Potter shrugs lightly with a low smirk draped across his lips. He’s got stubble on his chin and the drink in Draco brings forth the curious thought of how it would feel against his clean-shaven face. “I saw something I liked and decided to give it a try.”

“A try,” Draco scoffs with a roll of his eyes as if he hadn’t been in it for a try himself before discovering who exactly had him at the waist. A shiver takes him as Potter’s hands crawl higher and he brings his hands down to cover the other man’s. “You know who I am, correct? I do hope those glasses haven’t made your already shite vision even worse.”

“Unlike our work days,” he chuckles and Draco feels like rolling his eyes at the reference to their slow-growing working relationship, “I know what I’m walking into tonight.” The arrogance in his voice is nothing unlike Draco’s from their school days. It’s confident, not haughty, and it makes Draco’s heart skip a bit as Potter’s fingers attempt to twine with his. “I’ve seen you here the past couple weekends. Didn’t expect it to say the least.”

“I’ll admit the same. Didn’t expect such blatant proof of the Boy-Who-Lived liking a good cock or two.” The blonde squirms as Potter starts swaying with the beat and takes Draco with him. “I didn’t say I’d dance with you, Scarhead.”   


Potter pulls him closer. “Quit it with the nicknames, Malfoy. If you don’t want this, then go. I’m not holding you captive.” Draco shuts his mouth and refuses eye contact as the song’s bass line begins to climb. He realizes the lyrics aren’t completely in English and marvels in how no matter the language, a song can evoke the energy necessary to convey it’s clear message. A message Draco’s hips seems to like as he begins to dance with the other man.

They’re getting closer as the song builds, his hands trailing up Potter’s arms until he’s got his arms locked around the other man’s neck. There’s enough of a height difference between them that this close together, Draco finds himself looking down at him. His eyes trail over Potter’s face until they land on his lips, wet and--oh there goes his tongue, darting so quickly but Draco’s already stupidly entranced.

_ Ollyeobon hanuleun beautiful, like a waterfall _

It’s dangerous, both the space between them and the lack thereof. Draco can feel every breath the man takes as the song reaches the peak, the breathy voice falling with the lyrics of waterfalls, crashing into the chorus with a simple line.

_ Shall we dance on the moonlight? _

Strobing lights flash throughout the room, the crowd nodding and bouncing with the beat as the kick drum thumps and the synth bass dances around the simple synth beat and ‘boots and cats’ game between the snare and hihat. It all means little to Draco as he steps closer, too anxious to close the distance between them but brave enough to accept the warm and interested body and his own escalating interest. Warm fingers dance up his exposed sweat damp skin. Each touch brands itself into his skin, steady reminders that there is no coming back from this. To be honest, Draco isn’t sure he wants to go back anyway.

_ Shining like a waterfall, shall we dance on the moonlight? _

The words repeat, a gentle caressing whisper in his ears against the harsh thump of the beat itself. The juxtaposition intrigues him as much as the dynamic between himself and Potter. Draco sways his hips, tangles his fingers in messy black hair, tastes the sharp bite of gin in each breath Potter takes against his glossed lips. His jeans are getting tight in the crotch area and he huffs a laugh before turning to press his rear against the other man in time for a rap verse to begin.

Potter’s breath on his neck is far too distracting but Draco’s sure the way his arse grinds up against the man is even more distracting for him. Oh how typical, the way Draco has always competed against Potter in some way or another, and now they’re tangled in each other’s arms, grinding to the sultry purr of a rapper whispering about taking the why out of sexy as they attempt to get each other turned on enough to take that final step. To close that barely existent gap.

The kick drum drops out and Draco vaguely hears familiar lyrics, his ears catching on the English lines fairly easily despite the noise of the crowd and the sound of his blood rushing out his head and down to, well, his other head.  _ Let’s play it cool, wanna talk with you _ \--oh, Potter’s hand comes around to cup him firmly enough to make it know it’s on purpose, Merlin, and-- _ Ollyeobon hanuleun beautiful, like a waterfall _ \--he accidentally moans.

_ Shall we dance on the moonlight? _

That seems to be enough for Potter as he uses his stupid Auror strength to turn Draco around and crash their lips together. Ever the brave Gryffindor he is, Draco thinks before all thought is wiped from his mind at the tantalizing stroke of Potter’s tongue against his own. It’s sloppy and wet, Draco’s hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and Potter’s hands begin to stick to his skin as they press against his back but he can’t find reason to care. Lust overflows between them, dripping in the blackness behind the lights that flash between shades of blue and purple. The synth sax slips between chords, accents beats that the couple gyrates to, blending in with the Muggle crowd that swallows them into the heat.

_ Shining like a waterfall, shall we dance on the moonlight? _

When the song drops the drums once more, Potter’s kisses turn more into little pecks. Draco doesn’t want him to stop, finds himself leaning in and then scowling when Potter laughs a huff across his wet, messy mouth. A vocalist powers through and against the four to the floor beat, his voice strong yet careful with the pronunciation of each word as the song falls to the vocalist’s knees at his final statement.

_ I’ll be waiting, always. _

Potter smiles softly to himself, his eyes far away with an emotion Draco doesn’t recognize. He leans on his toes to kiss Draco one last time and it means something, something far too much. More than the club deserves. More than the strobing lights and ear splitting subwoofers can handle.

_ Shining like a waterfall, shall we dance on the moonlight? _

Falsetto harmonies carry through the air, gentle like a refreshing spring breeze against hot skin. Draco licks his lips, frozen between bodies that attempt to drag him into their moshpit of sweat and hormones as Potter’s hands leave their grip on his body.  _ Shall we dance on the moonlight? Shining like a waterfall _ . Potter slips into the crowd, disappearing in a blink as if the last few minutes never happened.

_ Shall we dance on the moonlight? _   


Draco pushes forward, runs from the center until he’s on the outskirts where the blackness follows and obscures starry couples dancing for no one other than themselves.

_ Let’s fly away. _

A flash of black hair and green eyes toward the exit. Draco chases it like the stars chase the moon.

_ Let’s fly away. _

A final hum echoes in his chest as he wrenches the door open and finds nothing but the empty street before him. Moonlight glistens on his damp skin, unwarranted disappointment rushing through his veins until his knees begin to buckle. The high of it all, of snogging Harry Potter himself amid the swarming bodies pressed all around him, begins to fade as chilled air infiltrates his lungs. A second before he decides to apparate home and wank this silly erection out, a familiar hand catches his elbow.

“Let’s Side-Along,” that maddeningly infuriating yet attractive voice whispers in his ear like the wind.

Draco can’t help but comply.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and go listen to fatal love


End file.
